What's in a Name?
by jezrafaa
Summary: Murdoc's point of view on Noodle before she was taken to hell. Note: This is a prologue to a story that most likely will never be finished, it was just idea that poped into my head that needed to be typed out. I hope you enjoy!


I do not own the Gorillaz.

Prologue- What's in a Name?

It had all started with her arrival, the searching, and the feeling of guilt, fear and concern, emotions themselves. All of it had started when she first showed up in that damned box. Not all at once, but gradually over time. So when after four years of her arrival she disappeared without a trace, against the plan that they had set up, he had not been happy, and had blamed his own ego for getting himself involved all those years ago.

Murdoc had been watching her for months after she had been mailed to them, and he knew that she was watching him back. That was the way of their relationship. They hadn't gotten along very well, really, at all, but they didn't not get along either. He found her constant chattering annoying as hell and only kept her around because of her almost other worldly ability to play the guitar. She, he was pretty sure, disliked him on principal after she had caught him beating up on 2D.

What bothered him the most is the she followed face ache around like a lost little kitten and always listened to whatever Russell told her to do. That is if she understood him. If she didn't, she had the dullard explain it. Not him. She either calmly waited through whatever **he** had them do as a band or would avoid him like the plague. And it sickened him to see his two other band mates melt at her actions. She could get both of them to do whatever she wanted. **That** was his job for fuck's sake! He was the band's leader! And she should listen to him, damn it, she was mailed to him, not the dullard, not Russ, but **him**!

He hated to admit it but he was jealous, of her ability, of her manipulation skills. Never mind the twinge of…whatever he felt whenever she gave face ache or Russell a hug or kiss on the cheek. The only affectionate gesture **he** got was a tug on the sleeve so she could hand him a cup of coffee when he had had a hangover one day.

So after several months of watching her he took matters into his own hands. This had been his fatal flaw. There was no point in arguing with her because she wouldn't understand him, let alone care. No, he was going to win her over, but for the life of him, he hadn't an idea what to do. How do you win over the most bizarre ten-year-old child in existence, at least to him anyway?

Luckily inspiration struck him when he had caught her touching his flying V. Usually he would have verbally bitten her head off and almost did, until he had seen her wide fear and guilt filled green eyes. All his anger had drained from him with that knowledge. She was afraid of him. He didn't know why, but that made him feel horrible, not an emotion that he had ever felt before. He didn't like it. He had never felt bad for anything that he had done, and he hadn't even done anything, not to her. At least he thought he hadn't. So what, in Satan's name, did he need to do? Then it came to him.

So immersed in his own thoughts he almost missed her trying to escape, and grabbed the back of her shirt out of pure reflex. Her escaping was counterproductive for this to work. Turning himself around, he sat with his back to the wall. Murdoc then pulled her down next to him so she would be sitting on his right. Reaching over her he grabbed his guitar and set it on her lap, placing the shoulder strap around her. Keeping his left hand on the neck of the guitar, he reached behind and around her to grab the other end, effectively pulling her closer; making her squeak in surprise.

He stared down at her expectantly as she stared up at him with wide confused eyes. "Well, go on, play," he commanded. He knew she knew at least the word 'play' because of all times he had said it during their practices. She stared at him a moment longer then at the guitar before biting her lip and strumming the strings. He watched for a few minutes as she tried to play something, but her hands and arms were too small. She huffed and sat for a moment before she grabbed his hand and manipulated it to form the right cord. She leaned over the guitar to strum the strings when her head whipped up to stare at him with wide fear-filled eyes.

Murdoc had actually found it amusing that she had done it. That was why he left his hand there in the first place, but he had no problem watching her struggle for a bit. Though he had to give her credit it took balls to just grab him, let alone touch him without permission. He just hoped that she wouldn't make a habit of it. He nodded his head to signal that she was to continue. She flushed with embarrassment but continued strumming, changing his hand when needed with a questioning look each time, and quiet mutterings under her breathe in Japanese. It took him a moment to understand that she was saying the names of notes.

He surprised her yet again when he said the next one. Her head whipped up to stare at him in confusion again, and he vaguely wondered if she ever got whiplash. He pulled her closer, making her look at his arms then back up at him in confusion. Now able to reach the strings, he strummed the last note and repeated himself, and then through the rest of a scale. She quickly followed and parroted him through the scale twice, perfecting the way she said the first seven letters of the alphabet.

Once that was completed she suddenly stopped and burst into, at least to him, gibberish, while bouncing happily. She waved her arms to get his attention and mimicked holding a guitar, 'played'/spoke a scale not in bass clef, but in treble, the clef that the electric guitar was played in. Well that answered his and Russell's question on whether she knew the difference between the two. After going through the scale twice she changed hand positions as though she was playing the piano. She played both clefs once, at the same time, one hand doing one, one doing the other.

Switching hand positions yet again with her eyes closed, in what looked like how the cello was played, she started to strum the fingers on her right hand independently while playing the notes with her left. Murdoc stared for a moment in confusion. _What the hell kind of instrument is that?_ "Oy, what the fuck?" he stated. Her eyes blinked open, startled by the sound of his voice.

He knew that she knew what 'what' meant. When she had learned it she had skipped down the halls repeating it over and over and over again, the annoyance had stuck in his mind. Following his finger pointing she stared at her own hands confused, wiggling them in a similar fashion to what she had just been doing, but not quite. It was as though she couldn't remember, but knew that she did know, based on the furrowed eyebrows and bit lip. She looked lost and up set, and he knew that if he didn't do anything soon she would most likely cry, girls did that for some reason.

He quickly reached over and ruffled her hair and told her that it wasn't that important. It startled her so much that she stared at him with her mouth open and her eyes wide. Reaching up a slim hand she placed it on his forehead to check his temperature. He glared at her mildly annoyed and she pulled her hand back sheepishly, but smiled happily nonetheless now that he was back to normal. They sat there, awkwardly; both realizing that it was the longest time, besides practices, that they had spent together. She started fidgeting and he sat there thinking. He glanced down at her briefly, and then pointed to the piano and said, "play."

"Hai," came her response with a nod. She sprang up holding his guitar and carefully placed it back on the stand. Walking over to the piano she pulled out the bench and sat down, frowning down at the pedals that she couldn't reach. Sighing she started to play, fairly well, actually, but nothing compared to their absent minded singer. In a couple of years she could probably be as good as him and be able to reach the pedals.

Leaning on the piano Murdoc looked around at the other instruments in the room. The only thing left that took some talent was Russ's drum set. Snapping his fingers in front of her face he pointed to the drums and told her to play yet again. Grumbling in annoyance she hopped off the bench and pushed it in. Sitting on the drum throne she lowered it to her height and started to play. She was decent, just like the piano, but she was nowhere near as good as Russell. Though, to be honest, he didn't think anyone was as good as Russell, that was why he had kidnapped him, but he would never tell Russ that, not even if his life depended on it.

There was only one other instrument that he wasn't sure she could play; hell most people couldn't play it. It was a hard instrument, and no one in the band knew he could play one, let alone that he owned one. "Stay," he commanded while pointing at the ground. It wasn't the first time he had done it to her, and he could tell that it annoyed the shit out of her, so he repeated the command one more time before he left to his Winnie. It was a family heirloom, actually, the only one. Only a "true" Niccol's could play it. Which was utter bullshit because his brother couldn't play it at all, even though it was the only thing that their father forced them to learn to play. He had taught them himself.

It had only taken a couple weeks for Murdoc to play it better then his father. He had expected his father to be angry and jealous, but he had only clapped him on the shoulder and said that he could keep it. To say the least he had been severely freaked out. But he had kept it, with his fathers words about it could only be played by a true Niccol's and that he, eventually, would give it to one of his kids, blah, blah, blah. The only thing he truly remembered was that if a Niccol's played it they could seduce anyone they wanted. Which was true, he had done it, but it had made it way too easy. So it had stayed under his bed forgotten until now.

Reaching under his bed he moved things around until he found the case. Clambering out of his beloved Winnie he slammed the door shut behind him. Hearing a door shut right after his, he turned to see 2D staring at him wide eyed, like a dear caught in the Geep's headlights. Oh, how he loved that look. The fear, the dilated pupils, what was not to like? The look was good enough for now; he had more interesting things to do. He took a step closer to the man anyway, just to see him back up hard into the door, and hopefully the knob. Hearing the dullard's whimper of pain as he walked away brought a smile to his face, that is until he heard the lumbering feet and the intake of breathe that indicated that not only was the idiot going to follow him, but also speak.

"Hey is 'at a," began 2D, just to get cut off with a curt "shut up, face ache." He knew the man was pouting just as he knew the man was still going to follow him. To hopefully discourage this action Murdoc slammed the door to the car park close on the man, just as he was stepping in the doorway. A solid thud and a muffled whimper reached his ears to bring his smile back. That was until he heard the door open behind him and a whiny voice asking him why he did that echoing through the hall.

He was ignored in favor of Murdoc's sanity. Walking through the studio kitchen he opened the door to the sound room and placed the case down. Pulling out the violin he started to tune it, disregarding the sound of the door opening and closing behind him. Stuart Pot was like a cockroach. Always living through anything that was thrown at him, including a car. Unfortunately he had the intelligence of one as well, at least that was what Murdoc thought, and really his was the only opinion that mattered.

Noodle was sitting by his base again with her eyes closed trying to figure out what she had done previously to no avail it seemed. He sat in front of her to draw her attention back to him, where it should be, and then when he was sure that she was paying attention he started to play a scale saying each note out loud. After going through it two more times he handed her the violin. Shifting to sit on her knees she gingerly took the violin from him. Placing it on her lap she ran her right hand along the polished wood in confusion. She abruptly pulled a hand back and put her index finger in her mouth. Her drop of blood was immediately absorbed into the wood disappearing almost instantly.

Biting her bottom lip and tilting her head to the side, she stared at him, questioning if she should continue, with her look. "Go ahead," came his response and he nodded, though he did find it odd that it had done that, he thought that it had just happened to him when he had first started learning. Picking it up, she held it correctly and placed the bow on the strings showing him her finger position before starting. The first note made all three of them wince, and he knew the dullard had gripped his head in pain by the fact that Noodle's eyes had flicked over in the direction of the piano and then back at him. He nodded at her to continue. The next note was still horrible but better. The next note even more so. By the time she got through the scale twice she sounded as though she had been playing for a few years; good but would get a lot better in time. By the fifth it sounded as though she could be apart of an orchestra. By the sixth time a professional soloist.

Staring at her he told her to play, which made her stop and stare in confusion. Then she picked up where she was but played even more fluidly. "No play," he stated. That just earned him an annoyed angry look. Behind him 2D snickered. Sighing he took the violin from her and played something off the top of his head. It was short and got his point across. Taking it back she held it again and took a deep breath and played the scale as fast as she could. Frowning at the speed, she played it again, just faster, and then again, and again, until she was playing it at a speed to her liking. At this point he was ready to rip the damn thing from her hands, but she stopped and looked past him to the dullard.

"B," she chirped happily at the keyboardist.

"Really, ya' sure. I mean ya jus' learned how," was the man's reply.

"Hai!"

"Uh, ok," with that said the lanky man pulled the bench out and sat down in front of the ivory keys posing his hands delicately on them in preparation. While he was doing that Noodle had jumped up and over Murdoc to the piano, violin at the ready. Whatever the fuck 'B' was.

"Ich, Ni, San, Shi," came her voice giving the tempo, and then they were both off, fingers flying, pounding out the song. Flight of the Fucking bumblebee. He had actually heard them play it before, but she had been playing on her guitar, which wasn't nearly fast enough, but a violin, a violin was. The song actually wasn't that hard to play note wise, it was the tempo that truly made it difficult, at least it should had been for someone who had just started to play twenty minutes ago. But she breezed through it forcing 2D to play faster to catch up, not that it was that hard for him. She started hopping half way through the song, like she did when she played her guitar, and just like playing her guitar she never made a mistake.

She was smiling widely and excitedly when they finished. So was the dullard, which was why they got along so well, same IQ. No, that wasn't right, or fair for that matter, at least it wasn't fair to Noodle, she had a much higher IQ then the dullard. She started to play randomly, like she was prone to do, and even that sounded as though she had played all her life. There was a soul to it that even he couldn't bring out.

She stopped when 2D asked him if he could see it. Murdoc didn't see why not. He knew the dullard couldn't play it, but like all retarded children he needed to touch every thing. If he put it in his mouth, then he would beat the shit out of him. 2D mimicked Noodle by placing it in his lap and then stroking the wood, monkey see monkey do and all that shit. Yet again the violin stabbed a wayward finger, taking a sample of its blood. 2D pouted at the instrument in confusion and betrayal. Placing his hand on it again to touch it a string unwound and slapped him in the forearm, leaving a shallow cut.

Lifting his hands away from the instrument he looked to Noodle and Murdoc with a plea written on his face. "I don' fink it likes me much, can uh one of you ge' it off me," whined the man as he tried to get away from the violin without dumping it off of his lap. As Noodle retrieved the violin Murdoc pondered what that meant. He had tuned it so he knew that the string shouldn't have unwound, let alone flung with that much force. He watched as Noodle held the violin experimentally, it still hadn't done anything to her but the finger stab. He would see what it would do to Russ before doing anything drastic. He pulled out his phone and called Russ.

"What you want Muds?" came a deep bass voice.

"Come down stairs Lards, and bring a few plasters. The dullard hurt himself, again," returned Murdoc and then he snapped his phone closed. Fifteen minutes later Russell came in pissed.

"You know, next time you want me ta come someplace, tell me where the fuck you are yo," snarled the large man. Looking at 2D he walked over to the man and handing him the first aid kit. "Here you go D," looking around he said, "Alright, now what the fuck happened?"

"Vio, vol," started Noodle.

"Violin," helped Russ when he noticed the instrument.

"Hai. Violin bite 2D-kun," explained Noodle.

Raising an eyebrow he stared at Murdoc, "actually, that's kinda what happened, Lards." More or less anyway. Noodle held it up for examination. Russell picked it up out of her hands and held it in his large ones. Pulling his left hand away he sucked on his thumb, "shit." He looked to see what had stabbed him, while Murdoc watched the strings. He raised an eyebrow in confusion as another one started to unwind.

"Russ," Murdoc warned making the man look at him at the same time lower it away from his face. The string finished unwinding and snapped the man's fingers, making him drop it, not his eyes though, which was were the string would have hit. Noodle caught it without pause, and gingerly cradled it, keeping it away from her face. Russell stared at the four shallow cuts on his fingers for a heart beat before cursing up a storm. Noodle looked at Murdoc, who shrugged in reply. Like the fuck he knew what was going on. Signaling her over he taught her to fix the strings and tune it, he even contemplated giving her the thing, it wasn't like he played it that often, but it was his and he kept what was his.

After placing it back in its case he stared at it in confusion. Then he shrugged and put it back in his Winnie, not like it was his problem. But most importantly there was no way he was going to call his father, nothing could make him.

….

Except the idea wouldn't leave him. His idea had worked; she did listen to him more willingly and actually smiled when he came into the room every once in awhile. But the fact that the violin hadn't hurt her, not really, stuck with him. What was worse was that the more he hung out with her the more he liked her, not in a sexual way, but a warm fuzzy way, which he knew was not something he should ever feel, familial or other wise. Its just, he couldn't help it she was fun. She played video games like any pro, played practical jokes on not only 2D, but Russell as well, something even he didn't do, lied, cheated, and even stole things.

Food actually, and from all three of them. They made their own food; it had never occurred to him that she couldn't, but when he saw her pilfer half a sandwich from the dullard without him even noticing, he knew that she probably didn't. So he watched her even closer then before, his new found trust making him less noticeable. He watched her steal from Russell while she talked to him. The man never noticed, which wasn't much of a surprise with the amount of food that he ate. But she even stole from him, and he hadn't even caught it right away. So the next time he made himself something to eat he made her something as well, just to see what would happen. It had nothing to do with the feeling of disquiet when he saw how skinny she was.

When she had come into the room he had pushed the plate of food towards her. She stared at him, startled into stillness. Then she stared at the food. Slowly moving forward she sat down with the plate in front of her. She watched him eat for at least five minutes, just watching. It was creepy as fuck, and he wasn't going to take it much longer. He stopped eating and just stared back to show how creepy it was, but all she did was become even more still, even quieter. "What the fuck is your problem, its just fucking spaghetti. Fuck!" She had jumped at his outburst, but then started eating.

When she was done she had washed both their plates and the rest of the stuff he had used to make it. Then she had stared at him again with him staring back while sipping (gulping) his beer. Placing her hands behind her back and biting her lip she continued to stare at him. He knew she was contemplating something, he just wasn't sure if he would like it. Balancing on the blades of her feet and her head tilted just to the side she still continued to stare at him. As creepy as it was he was actually getting used to it.

He looked away briefly to throw his empty can in the trash. When he turned back she was two feet away from him. Before he could even swear she was bowing and saying something in Japanese. No one had ever bowed to him before, and it was a good feeling, being bowed to really was an ego builder. Instant good mood. But she threw him off again when she finished closing the gap between them and hugged him. Fucking HUGGED **HIM!!!** There was even a soft "thank you Murdoc-san" in his ear, and then she was gone. Which was good because he really needed to be alone, away from the warm, gooey feeling that had spread over his heart. That was until he realized that the reason why she had watched him eat was to make sure his cooking was safe. It seems that she didn't want to die of food poisoning. Spaghetti was different then a sandwich apparently. He needed a beer, a smoke, a woman, and his Winnie. He needed to hibernate for a while.

….

But it was not to be, at least not for long. And he actually couldn't blame anyone else but himself. Going back to the Winnie had him thinking about the violin and why it hadn't hurt her. The idea making some random kid off the street try to play had popped into his head haphazardly, but they usually came with parents. Now if the mother was just there he could seduce her and drop the kid off somewhere, of course after making the kid try the violin. Though it would be harder if the violin did attack the kid, and by the time he would have restrung the thing the mother either be attacking him or had already left. And a resulting law suite was just a pain in the ass. He decided to sleep on it.

….

Two weeks later, after trying said scenario and getting kick in the balls for the effort, he finally broke down and called his father. Damn he hated that man. The worse part was once he mentioned the violin he wouldn't say a word on the phone, making Murdoc actually meet the bastard face to face. At the same Satan cursed pub that he had made him sing at when had been a boy. He did refuse to buy the bastard a drink, and had plenty of them in front of him.

It had been a shitty conversation, of course. The old man had gone on and on about that she was meant to be apart of the Niccol's family, by any means necessary. His suggestion had been to wait until she was old enough to marry. That idea in itself had been repulsive. She was ten for fuck's sake, and she was Noodle. But most importantly he was never getting married, ever. He had started to ignore the old man until he heard him say that he wanted to meet her, she was a Niccol's, so why not. In a way it made her his daughter-in-law. That was when Murdoc had punched him, threatened him to never come near her, and stormed out.

When he had calmed down later, back in his Winnie, he had realized that something was wrong with him because though punching and threatening his father's life was a common place thing for him, the reasons why were much different. He had lain in his bed for days trying to figure it out. He knew he wasn't going to marry her, even following what ruled the violin, he wasn't going to marry her, because the violin was passed down from parent to child, not from spouse to spouse. But that meant that she was meant to be his child, and it wasn't even by blood because apparently the violin didn't care about blood. The small sample it took was to taste the soul's residual essence that it carried. Meaning she was the daughter of his soul, and fuck that was creepy, unexpected, and highly annoying. Annoying because he had made a promise to himself that is if he ever had any children, and he knew about them, he would be better than his father, that he wouldn't become that man.

That was why at nine in the morning, way too fucking early for his taste, Russell and Noodle found him in the kitchen making breakfast, not only for him, but for her as well. They hadn't noticed while they waited for Murdoc to finish up cooking, and Russell was still dazed with the knowledge that Murdoc could get up early and **not** wake everyone up, which was what he usually did when he wanted them to practice, but also the fact that he could cook something that didn't come from a box first. So it was an even bigger surprise when he placed a plate and a glass of milk in front of Noodle telling her to eat. Eggs, steak, and toast. Sitting down to eat a bigger version of her meal, he popped open a can of beer and grunted a "what" in Russell's direction.

"You are… its just… being nice. Its kinda creepy, though you're always kinda creepy," replied Russell.

Nodding his head in negation he turned his stare to Noodle. "Stand up," Murdoc told the girl, but the only response he got was a confused stare. He stood up so she would understand, but all that happened was her head following him and her forkful of egg that had been on its way to her mouth when he had spoken to fall back onto her plate. Gesturing with his hand for her to join him, she stood up. Raising his hands above his head, she mimicked him in bewilderment. Her large sleeves fell to her shoulders showing that her arms had gotten skinnier while he had been hiding in his Winnie. Using one of his hands he grabbed onto both of hers. Staring at Russell he reached behind her and grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling it up. Squeaking, she twisted free from his grip just to be grabbed by Russell and told to finish eating. But that brief glimpse had been enough. Vertebrae and ribs shouldn't stick out quite that much on a child.

"She can't cook and she steals food from us while we aren't paying attention. I'm just protecting my interests," Murdoc said while watching her eat. She was huddled around her plate, pissy, and glaring at him. It reminded him of an angry kitten, except she actually could harm him. She finished in a hurry and sprang away from them still in a tiff. If she really were a kitten she would be puffy, and hiss at random things, which is what he heard right after she exited the kitchen. Murdoc blinked in confusion, had he really just heard that? He looked to Russ and he looked just as confused as he felt.

Looking in the hallway they found 2D blinking wide-eyed up at them pinned against her door with his arms thrown up as if to protect himself from a blow. Both Murdoc and Russ snickered at the sight in front of them. It was not everyday that you saw a 6'2" man cower because of a 3'2" child. "Why'd she go an hiss at me?" asked the bewildered man. They ignored him and walked back into the kitchen.

….

It became somewhat of a routine between him and Russ to make her meals, though more him then Russ, and surprisingly he didn't really mind. She always thanked him and even hugged him (she was ten and apparently kids did that a lot). He took the time to talk to/at her. It was nice talking to someone who didn't whine or bitch at him, and she used it to further her comprehension of the English language. He honestly didn't know what else to do besides take her shopping for cloths, something he found out was a horribly long and boring chore that she hated just as much as him. Though he had found it hilarious when she had gone into the fountain to not only play in the water, but also collect as much change as possible. He drew the line when she tried to make him join her, but he did give her an empty shopping bag to put all her money in.

He had lost her briefly when they had gone into the food court. One minute she had been there the next she was gone. He had found her five minutes later buying bouncy ball after bouncy ball from the coin machine in the middle of the court. From the looks of it she had emptied half the machine. He let her do what she pleased while he got them food. She found him putting their food and her cloths down on a table. She was carrying the bag of change and bouncy balls happily. Looking over at the machine he saw that it now stood empty.

Pointing at the bag he only said one word, "why?" All she did was smile evilly. By the time they had returned to Kong she was laughing manically. After taking her things to her room she came back down and got him, so they could watch the elevator. After waiting for a half an hour he was ready to leave. That was until 2D came up from his room. He stared at them oddly while climbing into the elevator. At the last minute she whipped one of her bouncy balls into the elevator just as the doors closed.

An hour later had 2D just getting out of the elevator after it had stopped working from the ball and 2D hitting the bottoms too much, Noodle going in to fix it, and Murdoc and Noodle laughing for a long while. Murdoc's influence had been blamed, and Noodle had soothed 2D's hurt feelings with a hug, a sorry, and a kiss on every black and blue mark that the ball had given him. And she let him keep the ball.

Two weeks later she pulled another stunt by laying several of them on the ground. Russell had fallen for this one and then had taken 2D with him. Though this time only Russell hadn't found it funny. But mostly he found her in the hallways throwing the balls as hard as she could and then dodging around them as fast as possible. It wasn't until he had caught her going to chuck one of them into his Winnie that he realized that he cared for her despite the fact that she was annoying as hell.

So more then six months after her delivery he asked her a question that should have been asked the minute that she had a better comprehension of their language. "What do you want your name to be?" he knew that she understood him or at least what the question was. He had thought about it from the moment he had understood what the violin told him, and more deeply after her shenanigans with the bouncy balls. When they were rich and famous they would need passports, documentation. She didn't have any; hell she was mailed to him. Its not like there had been a piece of paper in the box that said who she was and a change of ownership. He had even looked. There was no way he was adopting a kid whose name was Noodle. Nickname, sure, just not her actual name.

"You no like Noodle name?" she asked.

"You don't like my name," he replied.

"You don't like my name?" she asked again, forming the words the best that she could.

"Not for your passport," he showed her his passport so that she would understand.

After flipping through the small book she slid it back to him and bit her bottom lip. He knew that she was confused as to why he was asking, but there was no way he was going to tell her. "Izumi", was her quiet reply, she had a slightly lost and confused look on her face, which made him wonder if that was actually her name and she just couldn't remember. He had her write it out for him and sent her on her way ignoring the inquiry on why he wanted to know. He later looked up her name online to see what it meant. Spring. It suited her well.

Her passport didn't arrive until three days before their début at Camden Brown House and he waited until they were packing for Jamaica to give it to her. He hated to admit it but he was nervous about giving it to her. What if she didn't like it? There was no point in not giving it to her, especially when he knew that Russell was going to freak out about her not having one tomorrow. He knocked on her door and walked in after he heard her call of "hai".

"Here," he said trying hard not to be so anxious. She had taken it from him in confusion and had continued to be confused until she opened it. It was odd watching her stare in awe at a little book. When she noticed his name she looked up in uncertainty and surprise. Then something clicked, and she was jumping up and down around him, talking and flailing her arms. He had to admit it was a rather impressive impression of a rabid version of the energizer bunny. Until she abruptly stopped and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you Murdoc-oto-san!!!"

He awkwardly hugged her back, and then uncomfortably scratched his neck trying to figure out what to say. She noticed his posture and decided to save him. Guiding him to the door she said one more thank you and a goodnight, tugging him down to her level to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then, after giving him one last smile, she closed her door softly. He stood there for a few moments staring at her door, listening to her pack. He then turned on his heel and headed to the car park while scratching his cheek with a finger, he had a lot of packing to do himself.

….

There relationship didn't change much after that. She tolerated him more, though barely, and he listened to her when she talked, and tried to understand what she said. They did have their moments of familial bonding, like when he let her buy the jet pack in Tokyo, Russell had had a fit and then practically an aneurysm when he found out Murdoc let her fly it while he was getting food. During the American tour they bonded over doing pranks to the other members to pass the time.

The only incident that he could truly call a family moment was when he had found out that she had a crush on 2D. Why, he had no idea, but nonetheless, she was crushing and crushing hard. The only reason he had found out was because she had been missing from her hotel room one morning. Russell had gone to get her for breakfast, finding the door wide open with her stuff still inside. They had searched the building high and low for her, only to find out that she had been on the bus the whole time. And when he meant on the bus he meant on top of it, and it looked like she had been there the whole night crying her eyes out. He had spent ten minutes trying to get up there only to have nothing to say once he managed it.

She had hugged Murdoc from the side and burst into a whole new batch of tears. The only thing that he could think of to do was stroke her head; hell he had had no clue how to handle these types of situations and needed something to do with his hand, if just to keep him from yanking her off of him and heading for the hills. After the sobbing and then sniffing stopped he asked her what was wrong. From what he could understand she liked the dullard, and she knew that she was too young to do anything or to even get noticed, but it hurt, a lot, to hear him about to have sex with some random stranger. So right after she heard his door shut she had hauled ass back to the bus. Not able to get in without breaking the door she had just launched herself on top of it, and had cried the rest of the night.

Murdoc had never wanted to hurt the dullard so bad. Out of everyone in the band it had been face ache that he had been sure wouldn't make her cry, not that he cared if she was upset or not, right. Fortunately he had kept his anger hidden, from her at least, and had told her honestly and bluntly that the dullard was a fuck up that was so steeped in pills and alcohol, that more often then not that he didn't even know what was going on, let alone remember what he had done a half an hour ago. Murdoc didn't know what it was like to genuinely like someone, so he didn't know how hard it was to get over something like that, but she had to try to do it as fast as possible because the dullard wasn't going to change and she deserved so much better, so much more of a person then that asshole. Stewart Pot was not worth the time-spent angsting over him.

She had hugged him slightly harder and smiled up at him. Nodding she had stood and stretched, then leapt off the bus and jogged into the hotel to get her stuff from her room. He then spent twenty minutes scrambling down the side of the bus to reach the ground. After grabbing his own stuff, finding Russell so he could find 2D, and then checking them out, he headed back to the now unlocked bus. Noodle was already in there on her bunk sleeping. Checking on her briefly, he opened a beer from the kitchen and sat on the couch in perfect line with the door. Chugging it quickly he crushed it in his hand to relieve some of his anger, and aimed it at the opening. He waited for the door to swing inward, checking to make sure the hand that opened it was a sickly white color or not, he didn't need Russell pissed off at him because Murdoc accidentally hit him instead. As Russell climbed up the steps Murdoc growled out "duck" and whipped the can as hard as he possible could. After hearing the satisfying sound of the can making its impact with flesh and then the whimper of pain from its unsuspecting victim, Murdoc reclined back and closed his eyes. All the while ignoring Russell's demands as to why he threw it at 2D in the first place.

….

Over the next couple weeks Murdoc spent every moment of free time torturing the dullard. Whether it was tripping him to shoving the éclair down his throat. The worst thing he did to the idiot was hiding his pills from him for a day. Watching him scramble around the bus looking for them had had him laughing for hours. He didn't stop until Noodle had pulled him aside, thanked him for what he was doing, but also explaining that though she herself wanted to do things like that to him, 2D was still her best friend, and he had no idea why they were being done to him in the first place. She may not be completely over him yet, she still cared for him and didn't want to see harm done to him. Murdoc did lessen his antics back to the normal level, but it didn't get rid of the anger he had towards the moron. Especially since every time the dullard slept with some random woman (four different women since the first) Murdoc saw her heart break a little more. And it frustrated him to see her bottle it up and pretend that she was fine even though she wasn't.

It was almost a relief when she had started to ignore all of them, her mind someplace else as she huddled on her bunk. He could tell that it wasn't about the dullard, or about the band at all. What ever had captured her attention and worry was something that only she knew and she wasn't sharing. Not that it bothered him much; it just meant that she wasn't angsting over the moron anymore. Her shifting of focus still didn't get rid of his anger at the dullard though. He couldn't help it. He had made her cry! No body had ever made her cry before, hell Murdoc didn't think that she had ever cried before that point. What the dullard had done was inexcusable, and his anger at him grew until it exploded several months later in that stupid hotel room. Not that he had regretted it, choking him at least. He still remembered the pleasant adrenaline rush he got while strangling the nitwit silent. That had taught him a lesson.

Murdoc still had been angry and not thinking clearly after Russ had hit him, which was why he had stormed out. He hadn't been able to think clearly until after he had been in prison for two months. He had felt guilty, truly guilty for the first time in his life. He had abandoned her with a man who was so high all the time that he probably permanently destroyed what was left of his brain and a man who, though capable of taking care of her, could be possessed at any point with something that could kill her. Not that she couldn't take care of her self, it was just proof that he was just as bad as his own father, because though he never laid a finger on her, his father had never abandoned him, at least not physically.

So when he had finally gotten back from Mexico he had tried to make it up to her. He was happy to learn that she had not been really upset at his departure; she had been upset at the breakup, but not the fact that he had just left. It meant that he didn't have to feel guilty for leaving in the first place, but a part of him was upset with the fact that she hadn't really cared whether he stayed or left and had even expected it a little bit. He still was nicer to her then before and made an effort to take care of her to an extent. If she noticed she didn't say anything, which he was completely fine with because it saved him from it being awkward. He was no longer angry with the dullard and was pleased that his band was back together even at the lose of Del.

When she had told them that she had demos for them to listen to he had been excited at the prospect of being on top again, his dream of ruling the world back in the forefront, though he hadn't expected the caliber of music that she had written, seeing that she had never written a song before hand. It was the first time he had ever been proud of someone other then himself. The album was a work of art that, without contest, was far beyond anything he could have done on his own. Not that he ever said anything like that out loud, or gave any indication that he felt that way. No point in swelling her head.

Everything had been going so well. The radio tour wasn't that bad, even with the assassination attempts. Their music videos were exceptional and their performances were beyond compare. Little Jimmy Manson was the only glitch in the system that had to be taken care of. No one threatened his band! The windmill scheme had been perfect, flawless because he knew Noodle would be able to take care of herself. She wasn't supposed to disappear that thoroughly or that quickly. She was supposed to radio him that she was safe before heading out. Not that he had been overly concerned when she didn't, but weeks later without hearing anything from her and Kong falling apart around him, he had started to realize that something was up. Finding her desperate message had been heart wrenching. That was when the distressed searching had started, the worry, and the fear.

He had felt the world collapse on him, without her there was no Gorillaz, no fame, no glory, no light. She was their soul and the glue that held them together. If he was king, there was no doubt that she was the princess. She was his, he was her father, he **owned** her, and there was on thing that Murdoc always was and will be: selfish. No one took what was his, and didn't regret it afterwards. So he had himself reborn, he transformed himself into a demon, giving up his humanity to find her. Spending two years scouring hell, searching for something he was never going to find.

Note: This most likely will be my first and last story. I wrote it to get this idea out of my head, that is it. If you like it I'm glad I was able to interest you, if you didn't I'm sorry, but I just don't care. Comment or not, it doesn't matter to me, I just needed to get this off my computer and thought there may have been someone out there that might enjoy it.


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